


i knew a boy (and a boy)

by toziersconverse



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 16-Year-Old Richie Tozier, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Dominant Top Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Good Significant Other, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Everyone Is Gay, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Good Significant Other, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, The Author Regrets Nothing, Top Richie Tozier, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27655097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toziersconverse/pseuds/toziersconverse
Summary: Eddie had a look of satisfaction on his face. “So, we’ve reached a compromise.”“What’s that compromise?”“Float. Don’t sink.”Richie took a moment. He then nodded. “Only if you’ll do the same.”“It’s settled, then.”-or: he tries to kill himself in the end.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	i knew a boy (and a boy)

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings: underage drinking, underage sexual innuendo, tense relationship moments, mental health issues

“Bottoms up, bitch!”

Two bottles of whiskey clinked together alongside the thunderous chime of the grandfather clock in Richie Tozier’s living room. Eddie Kaspbrak sat with Richie in his room, though, away from his celebrating parents. Moonlight cascaded across the bed which the lovers lay upon, intertwined, intoxicated. Static-ridden cheers from a televised fireworks show seeped through the thin walls, but the bass of Richie’s boombox shot back with full force. Richie and Eddie laughed over it all, downing their whiskey, Richie downing more than Eddie.

Eddie sat up. He kept his hand on Richie’s, gazing at the bottles that had already accumulated across the floor. How many had they had now, two, three each? Were Richie’s parents even allowing this? 

“My mom is gonna kill me for getting this hammered.” Anxiety always managed to get through to Eddie, even if he was drunk, even if it presented itself as slurred speech, giggles, and flushed cheeks.

“C’mon, you’ve done this how many times?” Richie laughed.

“Once? I’ve never had alcohol before this, dumbass,” emphasizing the _dumbass,_ Eddie tilted his bottle towards Richie, almost spilling it on him. 

“I don’t take shit from lightweights,” Richie said, with lightheartedness, pushing the bottle back towards Eddie, “especially from one who’s so far gone after just a few. I’m barely buzzed.” He seemed to gloat, chugging the rest of his drink. Was he?

A pause, a grumble, and then fits of laughter, a succession that took but moments. “Whatever, whatever. Happy New Year!”

“ _And_ happy third anniversary,” Richie added.

Eddie smiled at him. “Of course, how could I forget?” He leaned up to kiss the other on the cheek.

Richie sat the empty bottle on his nightstand. “Hey, listen.” He put his arm around Eddie, bringing him in, their figures interlocking once more. “We’re out of whiskey. You mind if I go raid the fridge for whatever the hell we have left?”

“Wait, are your parents letting us do this?”

“Do you not remember Maggie literally bringing in a six-pack of Jack Daniel’s and saying ‘Have fun, boys’?”

“... Oh.” Eddie felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. It was a new type of embarrassment for him, where when his cheeks were already burning, his stomach was burning, the same as it was churning.

His head was starting to pulse when Eddie felt another squeeze around his shoulders. “It’s fine, babe, you’re drunk. You probably don’t remember how to walk.” 

Richie achieved a smile from the other. “I’m gonna get the goods. Stay here, yeah? Take it easy,” he pressed his lips to Eddie’s temple and left. He kept the door open, and Eddie could hear indiscernible chatter from Richie and his parents.

Then silence.

Eddie hadn’t been left with silence for hours. It’s not that he couldn’t hear the refrigerator opening, Richie's boombox, or the popping of fireworks on the T.V. but he had been distracted from the silence within himself. After all, he didn't have time to worry about much of anything when he was getting plastered off his ass with his boyfriend.

A haze overtook his senses. Rapidly dizzying, he set the bottle down on the floor. The effects of alcohol began to double-down on Eddie’s mind and he noticed there was a dull ringing in his ears. His heart rate increased. _Oh, God._ Even his thoughts had an echo, like he was distant from himself, from the room. His heart was heavy, his chest felt heavier. He moved to sit on the side of the bed and clutched his chest.

Considering the fact that Eddie was half-way to wasted, he was, at first, confused about why he felt such odd pains, but he made the connections soon enough. The embarrassment was getting worse for him without him realizing it. He had been in this situation many times before. He would have said something stupid, or stumbled (verbally or physically), or have annoyed his friends. These panic attacks were a common occurrence, then, and he could usually handle them well. This time, it was different. He felt out of control; he felt his body going against him and the coping mechanisms he had worked so hard to integrate into his everyday life.

Was it the alcohol? Was this more than just panic, was it medical? Eddie could feel his heart pounding against his chest, threatening to break through his ribcage and onto the floor. His stomach became pitted.

_Fuck. Am I dying?_

Before he could indulge in any more fear-mongering towards himself, Richie entered, wobbling. Eddie eyed him and, momentarily distracted from his panic, was unable to keep himself from smirking. _It must have finally hit him,_ he thought. Eddie’s smirk disappeared when a brutal sensation of panic struck his core. He gasped for air, for any sense of calmness, and Richie let the bottles he held drop to the carpet as he ran to the other’s side.

“Woah, hey. What’s going on?” Richie’s speech now had the same loss of composure. He had a glaze over his eyes; so they really were hit at the same time. “Eddie, can you breathe?”

A response staggered on top of a choked-up throat: “I don’t…I’m sorry—” Eddie whined. He struggled to formulate his words, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, brows furrowing.

“Okay, okay,” Richie spoke to himself. He sat beside Eddie and pulled him close, kissing the top of his head. “Breathe, dude,” he murmured into the other, hiding his own panic about the situation. “You’re gonna be okay.” 

Richie scooted backward, taking Eddie with him, who promptly relaxed down into the other’s arms. They lie there, then, letting the tension in both of them decrease. They interlaced their hands, sighing and closing their eyes.

Eddie’s mind began to clear. The haze was still there, but it was more drunk than fraught. He opened his eyes—granted, they were heavy—to look up at Richie, who was half-asleep, already mumbling incoherencies. So he turned onto his side, craned his neck upwards. "Rich."

Richie gasped, awoken by the sudden close whisper. His glasses were still on. They were crooked, at that, so he readjusted them as his eyes darted around. "Sorry. Uh," he stammered. He put his hand on his head, "How long was I out for?"

"Five seconds," Eddie laughed. He put his hand and head down on Richie's chest. Another moment of quiet, another chance to think.

That's when he decided to confide.

With hesitance: "I was just… sort of on the verge of having a really bad panic attack, I guess," He said. "Earlier, I mean. When you walked back in the room," and thought about his next words, seeing worry curtain Richie's eyes. "I felt like a fucking dumbass after you went to get more drinks."

"A dumbass?" Richie pulled Eddie directly on top of him, arms enveloping him. "Oh, jeez, Eds, you're the _least_ dumbass person in this room." Okay, maybe Richie wasn't the best at comforting people, especially when he was drunk. He was trying, though. That was enough, at least for now, to ease Eddie Kaspbrak's mind. "We probably don't need any more alcohol anyways, if it's fuckin' with your mind so badly." He looked back at the dropped bottles. Thank God they hadn't broken.

Richie continued. "Hey, why don't we take your mind off of that shit?" He sat up, still holding Eddie like a stuffed animal. "It's 1992, baby: what are your inevitably unfulfilled New Year's resolutions?" His tone graduated from concern to amusement, and he grinned.

“I would actually fulfill my resolutions if I had any, dipshit.” Eddie teased Richie. “I really don’t think I have much to improve on, though.” He paused. “Well, nothing that warrants some sappy label of _New Year’s Resolutions: 1992._ ” He rolled over to the other side of Richie, the other’s arms adapting to the change of position.

“There’s gotta be something,” Richie pursued.

“I’m pretty stagnant, don’t you think?”

“Oh, of course not.”

“Well, if there had to be something…” Eddie said, thoughtful, peering up at his lover, “I would say that my goal is to get better.”

Another moment of silence. Those types of pauses were becoming awfully frequent throughout the night. Whether it be for the sake of a heavy statement or drunk, delayed processing times, neither of them would be able to tell. Richie, drunk yet still actively processing, mentally skimmed over all of the aspects of Eddie that he could’ve meant. There were too many to count. “Better?” He decided to go the inquisitive route.

“Better.” Eddie took this as a confirmation request.

“Well, yeah. That’s what New Years Resolutions are all a-fuckin’-bout. But better at what?”

A misunderstanding. It was enough to put Eddie back at the bottom for a moment, enough to make him overspeak and complicate his emotions should he try to apologize, but he forced himself to keep calm.

Thinking about it, he didn’t know what exactly he meant by ‘better’ either. Was it a subconscious ploy to be vague and move past the topic? Most likely. He was genuinely thinking now, though. There were many places to start, but which one should he choose this year?

After a few seconds, it came to Eddie. “Mentally,” matter-of-factly, “I told you I was panicking the time you came in. It was pretty bad, too. A tell-tale sign that I’m regressing in my progress.” Eddie was quickly sobering up, his speech more formal than it had been. One would think that he would be more of a lightweight, especially for a first-timer. Despite this—and to contradict Richie’s previous claim that he didn’t take shit from lightweights—he must have hit the worst of it when the panic had set in.

“What, have you _not_ been improving?” Richie wasn’t improving much in terms of sobriety, but he functioned quite well. “Eds, dude, I’m here for you. You know that, right? I’m your fucking boyfriend, of course you know that—or at least you should—”

“Cut to the chase, Rich,” Eddie pleaded lightheartedly. “And that’s not my name.”

Richie was functioning quite well _for a drunk sixteen-year-old._

“My point is,” Richie shifted his body, “I’d do anything to help you, hell, right this minute. I’m smashed as fuck, yeah. That doesn’t take away from how much I care about you.”

Eddie smiled as the other spoke. “For a ‘smashed as fuck’ guy, you’re pretty sweet.” He sighed into Richie’s neck. “Sweeter than when you’re sober. Maybe you should do this more often?”

“A-ha-ha,” Richie’s laughter was spaced out, sarcastic, but with glee on his lips so that Eddie could tell he was joking. “As if I don’t already drink too much.”

“Maybe that could be _your_ —”

“Eddie.” 

“Richie.”

They stared at each other. Now, the room was tenser. Not angry or offended, but the tinge of concern was thick; you could cut it into halves, into quarters, and then dice it. Eddie looked up at Richie, half-apologetic, but checking to see if he could continue. Richie nodded.

“I was just going to say,” now defensive, “that it could be _your_ better.”

Richie sat upright, but he didn’t dare remove his grip on Eddie. So, Eddie now sat up with him. He took a breath, preparing to speak, “I know underage drinking is bad or whatever—hell, I don’t know how I got Eddie fucking Kaspbrak, the greatest hypochondriac on the block, to agree to get drunk at all?—but I take care of myself. I don’t overdo it. I don’t go to school drunk or high, I’m not addicted. I’m fine.”

That routine, intermittent silence. But then it was broken more quickly than usual.

“A little defensive, but okay.”

_“Eds!”_

Eddie decided that now was not the best time to correct Richie on his name. “Hey, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to start a fight or anything, honest to God.” For the third time, the panic was setting in, but it was dull. It was more generalized anxiety, then, but he was forcing himself to have the courage to care for Richie so boldly. “It’s like what you told me earlier, dude. _I_ would do anything to help you. No matter what was happening.”

Richie took a moment to think. “You’re right, if I’m gonna be real with you.”

“So he admits defeat.” Even through his oddly constant fits of anxiety, Eddie was keener on wisecracks than the wisecrack himself that night.

“Watch it,” Richie bopped Eddie’s forehead lightly. “But… yeah. I get where you’re coming from. I’m grateful you care, no doubt. I was being a dipshit.”

Eddie had a look of satisfaction on his face. “So, we’ve reached a compromise.”

“What’s that compromise?”

“Float. Don’t sink.”

Richie took a moment. He then nodded. “Only if you’ll do the same.”

“It’s settled, then.”

Eddie put his head on Richie’s shoulder and placed his hand in his. He thought about their discussion. “Maybe we should top this off with a relationship resolution? A better for both of us, I guess. And it _is_ our anniversary, so it kind of makes sense.”

“Yeah, sure. Maybe, uh…” Richie struggled to offer the first idea. “Spend more time together?”

“We’re already up each other’s ass all the time,” Eddie critiqued, but he did not complain.

Richie immediately grinned. “One of us more than the other—”

“Don’t even get started.” Eddie laughed.

Even though he knew it was merely a joke, Eddie still felt a rush within himself. He knew Richie didn’t have any genuine intent on any sexual activities. Not at that moment, at least. Anything could change. The night was young, and it was a celebratory one for a multitude of reasons, so nothing was stopping them.

Keeping that in mind, Eddie put his leg on top of Richie’s with nonchalance. He saw Richie’s eyes light up with intrigue, a little less glazed, and Richie put his hand on Eddie’s thigh.

Smirking at Richie, Eddie began to rethink his actions. _Do I really want this tonight?_

Thus, he had an internal monologue: _Okay, weigh the pros and cons. Pros: It’s always killer with Rich. He treats me right, he doesn’t act a fool, and he knows what he’s doing. Cons? Cons, there always has to be one con._ Rapidly thinking, and then, _He’s drunk. I am, too, but he’s worse off than me. He won’t remember it, I shouldn’t take advantage of him like that._

So Eddie decided to take things the more romantic route.

He lifted himself and straddled Richie—which was already sexual enough—and rubbed his shoulders. Richie grinned, seeming to grow more expectant for some action to happen. Eddie didn’t want to lead him on. “Not tonight,” he murmured, cupping Richie’s face, “I just want something calm.” This was a half-truth. While Eddie did want a calm setting, he was more worried about seeming like he was using Richie while under the influence.

He seemed a little disappointed at first, but Richie was fine with it. “Yeah, I get that.” He promptly brought Eddie towards him, his lips parting slightly, and he brushed his lips against his lover’s.

Eddie laughed and pushed into the kiss, interlocking his lips with Richie’s. It was a sudden escalation, but it wasn’t unwanted. They melted into each other, taking each other in as deeply and as affectionately as possible. Richie and Eddie broke the kiss time and time again, for milliseconds and for minutes, taking quick breaths in between.

Eventually, Eddie was the one to pull away, feeling the need to catch his breath. He smiled.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
